A Loaded Smile
by rebeckon
Summary: Xion's voice and image haunts Zexion and his daily life, leading up in him living in the local wack ward. When Demyx is assigned to help this said-to-be hopeless case, he's nothing but determined. Maybe this bubbly intern is all Zexion needs to move on.


**Soooo um, my followers must hate me for not updating _Pen Mark_s in MONTHS, but hey, a girl's busy and has writer's block- I'm sorry :( But thankfully, I think dreaded writer's block is over and I shall be writing the next chapter soon for _Pen Marks_~ But as of now, I want you all to enjoy a project I've been developing since I started Pen Marks last summer. I quite like the idea I had going. :3 **

**Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me, nor does Kingdom Hearts, but the plot does so pleaseeee, don't steal it. **

**Please rate and review, whether you love it, simply liked the idea, or even disliked it. (: It'd mean a lot. **

**By the way, this is not beta'd, so please bare with me! If you want to help catch mistakes please do, or you think you might want to beta me in the future, inbox me. (: I'm always looking! **

**Anyway, enjoy~**

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><p><em>a loaded smile<em>

_an empty glass_

_and one last dance_

The moon's light trickled through the darkness, cavorting disoriented beams against the pale flesh of the young man hunched over the edge of the building. The scent of vodka was thick in the air, making it almost unbearable in the heaviness it presented; but he was too intoxicated to care that particular moment, his head pounding with every sip he poured down his raw throat. The night was so beautiful in that single chunk of time, like a piece of artwork he couldn't touch... But his clouded vision couldn't decipher what was really beautiful anymore.

"It's really nice out tonight, isn't it brother?" He looked to the figure out of the corner of his eye, the petite form of his sister staring longingly into the sky's presence apparent. "Warm."

"I guess, Xion." The truth was, he was sweating bullets, but he didn't bother to tell her this. He merely touched his fingers to his lips, amazed as if he had just spoke a taboo word.

A soft, but incredibly intoxicating giggle left the female's mouth, ringing through the slate-haired older brother's ears like an echoing melody. "Oh Zexy."

He had missed these moments, just the two of them in their own little world. A rare smile was painted on his porcelain features, as he rested his chin on the bottle of clear liquid's opening. Zexion wanted to reach out, to touch her, but he knew she'd leave if he did. He'd have to settle with only watching her.

"Remember the time when we stayed up all night up here? Just you, me, and the stars." She let out a contented sigh, resting her hands on the railing, dangerously close to his own.

"Our neighbors came up yelling because you were laughing your ass off all night," he commented with a nod of recognition, "Yeah, I remember." It was a meek whisper, hardly audible. There was no emotion in his eyes, blues dead to the world as he remembered- something he promised he would forget.

Xion held a sheepish grin. "Sorry about getting you into so much trouble, Zexion. You know I never meant to."

Darkness threatened to take her again, her ocean eyes dissolving much to his dismay. Holding on tighter to the glass, he forced down another gulp of the substance. His knuckles flashed white with their strain, his features arched with relief as his little sister became more solid; more whole. Her attention had drifted back to the night sky, sorrow enveloping them in a bundle of emotion.

"Hey, don't blame yourself for anything, Xi."

Silence.

She inhaled deeply, sucking in a small supply of air before releasing. "You always say that, Zexion. Why won't you let anyone take the blame? It's not your blame to bear, and you know it." The tension was palpable, prodding its way at his being.

Of course he knew it.

"Xion-"

"Don't you argue mister. I'm practically fifteen, which means I'm old enough to accept my own mistakes and take whatever I've got coming. Got that, Zexy?" The male's stomach turned at the choice of words, haunting his brain as his sister scolded him. She was _supposed _to be **sixteen** in a couple of months.

The lights of the city below seemed to burn into his mind as he looked down, heart ticking with growing pain. "Zexy?"

"Sorry, you're right," the smile he gave her was fake, only intended to make her feel better, "as always, you little brat."

Xion tucked a strand of raven hair back behind her ear, sticking her tongue out at him, unaware of the heaviness weighing her brother's heart down. He wanted to wrap an arm around her shoulders, ruffle her hair with affection; the desire to nagged at his insides.

"Dance with me, brother?"

_You know I can't. _"Sure, Xion." He abandoned the alcohol on the sill, following her lead to to the center of the roof. He lifted up his hand, acting as though they were holding hers, but enough distance separated their palms.

The last time they danced, their hands didn't vary too much in size- his own small frame competing with her growth. He knew that one day, his sister would grow to be taller, even by a small amount. But today, mentally comparing their palm sizes, his were noticeably bigger.

Zexion let out a sigh. _Was this really the time to be focusing on the size of their hands?_ He wrapped an arm around her waist, a long pocket of air keeping him from skin as he held her without touch; the female's own arm merely a haunting presence on his neck.

It was a ghost dance (which fit ironically, much to his distaste), a waltz deprived of touch. Her steps were rather clumsy, but he didn't mind, it's not like they teach you how to dance where she had spent over the last year. Or did they?

It's not like he had been there for himself.

"So I was thinking, maybe you should start dating again." He paused, eyeing her with a look of shock. Where had this come from? "Or in general, seeing as you dated, like no one, in the time I've known you. Which is all my life."

"How do you know I haven't dated anyone before you were born?" He replied lamely, not sure if he wanted to admit he hadn't dated a single soul, let alone kissed a girl in his eighteen years. It's not like he had this desire to start dating, and just couldn't get anybody. He was simply uninterested in the idea.

"I'm really sure you had a girlfriend when you were two, dummy. I bet you were a babe-magnet in in day care."

Just like Xion to tease him like that. "Shut up," he mumbled, scratching his slate-covered head, hiccuping the distinct taste of vodka. It didn't taste as good coming back up, if it was even pleasant to begin with. "And don't call me dummy..."

"You love it, Zexy." Truth be told, he really did. In that really odd, brother-sister way.

"I said shut your mouth, or did you not hear me?"

Their actions were intertwined as she followed him in their dance, Xion giggling half-apologies that didn't seem to matter anymore. Just her innocent smile, her mimicking steps, and mindless blabber; the hurt building in his chest, his lead, and his skill for hanging on to every word she ever said- that was what really had mattered. The alcohol wasn't doing enough, he mentally cursed, it never had been, what made him think it would this time?

"It's getting late, I should really get going Zexion..." Her voice took on a serious approach.

_No, you can't go. _"I miss you." Back when his sister had been around, the male never had verbally expressed his feelings, though, reflecting back on those times, something convinced him that she always knew.

"I miss you too," she said with a gentle smile, "and I'll make sure to visit whenever I can." _When I'm drunk_, he thought to himself.

"Can't you stay the night, Xi?"

"You know I can't do that-"

"I know, but that doesn't mean I'm fond of it," Zexion sighed, pausing in his step as he watched her pretty face smile in opposition of his own features.

"You're not fond of anything!" An eruption of giggles escaped her throat, sending the older of the two into a teasing smirk as he countered with a simple 'I'm fond of you, aren't I?'. Xion put a finger to her lip in thought, eyes glimmering in opportunity. "I guess so, since you loooooove me, Zexy."

His grin never faltered. "Most days. Some days. It depends."

"I love you too." Her voice was quiet, a somberness ringing in her tone. "Take care of yourself, get a girlfriend- or boyfriend if you roll that way," in which she received a glare, "and stop drinking so damn much! It's bad for you!"

"You're bossy."

"I'm looking out for you," Xion pressed her lips together in that adorable way she always did when she was trying to prove a point, "because someone has to."

_I'm suppose to look out for you Xion. This isn't the way things are suppose to go. _"I'm almost eighteen, I can look out for myself."

"Dummy, you're only sixteen."

"...Right, only sixteen." _That's how old I was, the last time she was here._ He took a step forward awkwardly, slipping in the small openings in between her sides and arms, lips finding the fabricated flesh of the female's forehead. "I love you, Xi."

And he fell into her, as her being evaporating into nothingness. He could never touch her, only see her in alcohol's company.

Stumbling recklessly over to his previous spot, he took one more good look out and over the balcony, before pushing the bottle off the edge in a furious manner. His eyes remained emotionless as he watched it shatter against the pavement down below. It was as broken as he was.

Xion Matios died almost a year ago. He would never see her again, and it was all his fault.

"Zexion?"

The male didn't bother turning, knowing who exactly the frightened voice belonged to. He leaned into the bar that held him up, closing his dark gaze to the world before him, imagining the feeling of hot liquid rushing down his cheeks- something he hadn't experienced in quite a while.

"Zexion! What are you doing up here?.." There was something off with this picture.

And suddenly the scenery changed, a starry night replaced with dim lights of the surrounding city below him. He was no longer on top of his apartment building, the bottle he used to comfort his sorrows no longer existed. The taste of vodka only a memory. This wasn't home, this was a nightmare. A beautifully painted nightmare.

"Zexion, can I please ask you to step away from the ledge?" The male held up his hands defensively, clutching a walkie-talkie in his right palm. "Please, Mr. Matios.

The slate haired man slowly took a few steps back from the edge, turning to face Sora, a young brunette working under the internship of one of the employee's. Zexion was no longer sixteen, or even eighteen, he was now approaching twenty. It was his second year there, in that prison he was forced to call home, and he had gone not a day with any sign of improvement. His only accomplishment was that he was two years sober.

He let Sora escort him back into the building without fuss, looking back to the skyline with that cobalt gaze of his that bore holes into the Earth's core- that put a shame to the natural beauties of the world.

In the beginning of his madness, she was just an illusion that came and went as he pleased with the aid of alcohol. And then suddenly, he needed less.

And less.

And one day,

he began seeing her whenever she herself pleased. She became more real. He became more sad. It was a never ending cycle of depression and insanity.

Maybe that was why he was locked up in this place. Hell. Or as the people on the other side of the doors called it, where the psychos lived.


End file.
